


Chiefin’ Written by Joiefemi

by GrownishZuca



Category: Grownish
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19838188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrownishZuca/pseuds/GrownishZuca
Summary: Set during episode 2-14 “Tweaking”.  After getting Luca Jae Hall level high, Zoey dips into her dude’s DO NOT TOUCH stash and is suddenly dropping bombs all over her friends.





	Chiefin’ Written by Joiefemi

Chiefin’

**written by Joiefemi**

Watching a nature show featuring a bear cub with fucked up dexterity is apparently Luca’s idea of fun. The kush has him extra chill, his lean form like liquid seeping into the sofa cushions, limbs slack, shit even his dreads seem to be hanging heavier around his face and shoulders. His eyes are half-closed and weirdly enthralled as that little fat ass critter falls out of a tree for the umpteenth time. Zoey admires her man’s serene profile, envies his mellow. Her normal routes to escapism are non-existent due to being financially cut off by her parents. Shopping, subscription un-boxing and foodie indulgences are now pleasures of the past. All she has left is losing herself in her dude and sex. 

Not that she isn’t blessed and appreciative. Being with Luca is like sliding on a pair of YSL feather-trimmed thigh highs. Transcendent and ugly-cry inducing. But his devotion and try everything approach to smashing isn’t available to her 24/7. Which is unfortunate because despite the outward slayage, inwardly Zoey is emotionally fraying. The exhausting extra effort put into studying, the tedious shifts at the bookstore, the riff with her dad and the encroaching doubts about her future has her carefully masked anxiety set at one hundred. When Luca is otherwise occupied, she needs another outlet for her stressing. Something harmless, easy access, economical…

And then epiphany hits. Her future husband and father of her babies -- Chanel, Armani and Dior Johnson-Hall -- is a ganja doyen. Despite her aversion to the smell, Luca’s favorite past time is a diversion that fits all her criteria.

Zoey scoots closer, fingers tugging gently at a thick loc. “Hey, babe?”

He swings glazed eyes her way.

“I’m in a mood. I need to relax.”

The flat screen goes black and Zoey finds herself tangled up in Luca as they do a slow slide to the floor. 

“Dude! Nomi and Ana could walk in any second and I was talking about  _getting high_ .”

Luca goes still, once busy hands resting in the waistband of her leggings, face still buried against her fleece-covered boobs. “Oh  _deadass_?”

“Deadass.” Zoey grabs a handful of dreads and regretfully yanks his nose out of her 32 Bs. “I’m talking Luca Jae Hall level high.”

The previously hazy irises are now alert and intrigued as he responds with an herb-induced drawl. “ _Cooopy_ .”

Smiling, eyes rolling, Zoey lets him help her to her feet and lead her towards her room. His clothes hit the floor as soon as the door closes behind them and Zoey’s follow. As he roots through his backpack, she dims the lights, queues up some music. An oldie but goodie floats through the room. It’s one of her faves. She hits the repeat button.

_Frustration (watching you dance)_

_Hesitation (to get in them pants)_

_Come closer, baby (so I can touch)_

_One question (am I moving too fast)_

Luca reclines on the bed with a plastic bag of interesting paraphernalia and leans back against the headboard. Zoey crawls onto his lap, settles her ass right over his crotch and wiggles. For a moment, Cool Hand Luca loses his chido. A thick brow arches at her boldness.

“You created this monster.” Zoey starts freeing her curls from their topknot because bae likes it wild.

“Props to me.” He says and despite the ever present neutral expression, there’s a smile in his words. She can always tell his mood by the inflection in his voice, so his lack of facial aerobics never bothers her like it does their friends. “Wanna go on a journey?”

“Yes.” Zoey claps excitedly, eager for a mind trip where her problems can’t follow.

She watches with interest as Luca discerningly chooses a spliff from an expertly rolled selection of dozens. A long black one catches her eye and she finger taps it through the plastic bag. “Let’s do the sexy one.”

Luca shakes his head as he fires up the tamer joint.

“You gotta go slow, baby. Do not touch this shit, understand? This one? Will have you deadass riding me _and the_ ceiling fan.”

“ _Ooh._ I wanna ride…” Zoey makes sure her lips are extra pouty. “…the ceiling fan.”

He smacks her ass for her insolence and fires up, takes a long drag and holds it for a few seconds before he sends a plume of smoke wafting around her. He closes his eyes, waves a hand in the air, forefinger and thumb pressed together like a true connoisseur. “Note the subtle hint of toffee.”

Zoey moves her face back and forth into the dissipating cloud and inhales, then frowns. “I just smell weed. Is this the part where I get high?”

He gently whacks her ass again and rests a hand on her rump as he brings the blunt to her lips. “Pull on it. Easy…easy. Now breathe in…let the smoke go all the way down.”

She sputters and then coughs violently. He pats her back patiently as he waits for her to recover, encourages her to try again. Zoey is smoother with it the second time and the deep rasp in Luca’s voice says he’s proud as fuck. After holding the smoke a few seconds, she exhales slowly. The herb tickles her limbic system and…

“Ohhh. ”

It’s Zoey’s body that’s liquid now. Sensations she didn’t know were possible push all the bullshit from her mind and she and her man are vibing on a whole other level.

Luca’s giving her that rare smile that makes her want to buy him all the rings and chains in the world. He takes another drag and watches her, eyes narrowing through the haze of some good ass leaf. Zoey feels like he’s laughing at her as he covers her mouth with his and she draws in the stream he releases. Their eyes are open as he does so and she can see the amusement in the dark brown depths, but there’s pride and reverence too.

The blunt is almost gone now and Zoey’s seeing colors, she’s South Philly, she’s floating. Arms above her head, her body rolls to the music and she swears Luca’s tattoos are singing to her.

_Temptation (is calling your name)_

_Sweet persuasion (baby, this is a game)_

_Come closer, baby (if you like what you hear)_

_Impassioned (is what I’m making you feel)_

Because he’s the most vocal, Zoey presses kisses to the little winged creature chilling under Luca’s left pec and it starts humming, or is that Luca? Her dude abandons the blunt for a handful of ass and a palmful of breast. Zoey tugs on his dreads and sucks on his lower lip. Next thing she’s flying…no, that’s Luca lifting her up and flipping her onto her back. Their kissing slow and sloppy and she’s got handfuls of ass too. He spends a millennium on her breasts and another playing connect the body parts with his tongue. The sexual high has her body throbbing and the weed has her euphoric and flying on herself. 

“So this is what it’s like to be on your level.” 

“Nah. Your level can’t handle my level.” 

Bae’s voice rises from somewhere between Zoey’s thighs. She takes offense at his condescension and so the next yank on the dreads is more violent.

But he’s into it. 

The smashing segues from the bed to the floor and the bed again. In between sessions, they smoke another one. Zoey’s herb-fueled potency leaves bae spent, spread eagle and sleeping like a baby. Doesn’t even stir the several times she bites him on his chin and tries to wake up little Luca. She lies on top of him and plays with the pornstache, plaits his locs together, maps out where the tattoos of her name and their babies’ names will be inked as the buzz begins to fade. Her gaze bounces around the room and lands on the open chemistry book on her desk, reminding her of upcoming assignments and tests and just like that the stress takes over again.

That black doobie starts calling her. 

Zoey rolls off Luca onto the floor, snags the joint and lights up. By the third draw, the scant amount of rationale remaining in her thoroughly blown mind recognizes that maybe she should’ve heeded his warning. She should definitely lie down but gnawing hunger sends her foraging her for food. There are three doors levitating in front of her and on the second try she goes through the right one and into the kitchen. Nomi’s Cool Ranch Doritos and the rest of Ana’s double stuff Oreos are consumed before she starts on the bacon and French toast. 

Instead of leveling off, the high seems to intensify. Could be the ever present moodiness that’s got her edgy because she’s reliving and rehashing past drama instead of enjoying how fuzzy and soft everything looks. She’s standing at the counter, naked and sex funky, mood rapidly darkening as she noshes on her culinary efforts when the roommates, Forster twins in tow, enter the apartment with bags of takeout. Four pairs of eyes go round, bitches is scandalized except for Nomi, of course.

“Skinny girls  _do_ have curves.” She teases with a playful leer.

“Oh Lord, she got her pubes out in the kitchen.”

That from Jazz’s extra ass. Zoey looks her up and down and hears herself tell old girl she can kick rocks if she has a problem. Her voice is like an echo, sounds as if it’s coming from everywhere but her. 

“Um… _tone_ .” Sky warns. 

Zoey’s gaze flicks over the smaller Forster, politely finishes chewing before responding, “ _Fuck_ your tone.”

The twins rear back, similar “No she  _didn’t_ ” horror on their faces. They all huddle next to each other to face Zoey as Ana tries to reason with her. Zoey thunks the plate on the counter and approaches with hands on hips and challenge in her eyes. Noses twitch at the mélange of strong aromas emanating from their friend. A combination of bacon grease, weed and sex.

The twins are teeheeing and Jazz comments, “This bitch is faded.”

And Zoey gets in the ugliest of her buried feelings, snatches the soda cup from Jazz’s hand, rips the top off and spits a wad of masticated French toast and bacon into the drink before shoving it back at her. All hell breaks loose but a minute later everything goes quiet as she rips souls and shreds feelings in all her bared assed glory. I-Just-Want-Peace Zoey is in the back of her mind trying to tell her to calm down but Bitch-I-Don’t-Care Zoey continues to drop truth bombs with cool and calm precision. About double standards, hos who can’t honor girl code, ghetto mean girls. Ana’s about to cry, the twins are dumbstruck and Nomi’s fascinated with her toes. 

On the tail end of the tongue lashing, she gets wrapped in a sheet and a pair of strong arms from behind. Bae has come to rescue them from further evisceration.

“You mad?” Zoey hisses as Luca half drags, half carries her away. “You gonna group text about that shit?” 

She grins like a mad woman, makes sure they can see  _all_ the teeth. Luca yanks her into the bathroom, primes the shower and hauls her under the spray as she’s screaming bloody murder.

“The Price Is Right” pulls her out of a dead sleep Saturday morning. Luca is stretched out next to her and doesn’t notice her resurrection, transfixed as he is watching his favorite show. Zoey remains quiet, takes a cursory assessment of herself post blaze gone wrong. She feels like dried turds on hot asphalt. Her mouth is parched, eyes are crusty and she’s tired as fuck. But she’s clean, wearing her favorite pajamas and her hair has been wrapped in a beloved fuchsia durag. That she was lovingly prepared for bed while faded is just one of the many reasons she intends to make Luca Mr. Zoey Johnson.

She remembers everything but the events after the cold water shocking. Probably no longer has any friends but she’s oddly unbothered by that possibility. Finally she grunts a good morning. Luca lets her know it’s actually afternoon. She wipes her goopy eyes and waits for him to drag her for doing too much last night. But he just smirks at her, stoic as ever and this is one of the few times his constant state of unbothered annoys her. 

“Dude, this is the one time I won’t be pissed if you go off.”

He shrugs. “You know you fucked up so what’s the point? I mean, I  _was_ saving that joint for a special occasion, but it helped you get some shit off your chest so it’s cool.”

“I’m sorry.” She rolls towards him, sticks her face in his neck as his arm goes around her. “For smoking your special occasion doobie. And all the stuff I can and can’t remember. Do I wanna know what happened after you tossed me in the shower?”

“You really don’t.”

“See you say it like that and now I wanna know.”

“You wanna hear about the sex first?”

“Yes please!”

“Your girls tried to break down the door, thought you were dying.”

“Oh…oh never mind.”

“I could tell you about how all that shit you ate didn’t agree with your stomach.”

“I said  _never mind_ .”

“Nah, you need to hear about  _that_ . I want you to know how much I love you.”

Thankfully her phone starts pinging from its spot on the nightstand.

“That’s your girls.” Luca hands the phone to her.

“How do you know?”

“They keep walking by your door and whispering.  _Mad_ loud.”

“I’m surprised they care.”

He snorts. “They know they deserved that smoke.” 

Zoey wants to wash her face and brush her teeth, but she doesn’t want to run into the girls right now. Instead she joins Luca in watching his show. Her mind begins wandering to all the stuff that’s gone down this year and an idea hits her during Plinko. 

“We should get our own apartment junior year.”

Luca’s eyes are still on the laptop screen but they widen a little. That excited him. “Sounds fire.”

“Like a very inexpensive one bedroom in one of those unpopular buildings on the edge of campus. Away from all the drama.”

“That’s even better.” 

Her phone has been repeatedly going off and she sighs as scans the first couple of messages. There’s contriteness from Ana and Nomi, a “We still love you, girl” from Jaz and Sky. Making up with her friends is on the agenda but for the first  time in forever she’s not worried about when or how it will happen. Or  _if_ it will happen. She doesn’t know if she has bae or weed to thank, but as she slings a leg across Luca’s, she’s grateful for the return of the real Zoey Johnson.

~ End ~


End file.
